


Secret Ingredient

by Magicnation



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-Recall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-29 03:40:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13918608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magicnation/pseuds/Magicnation
Summary: Ana enlists Reinhardt's aid in baking cookies for the Overwatch team. Never mind that Reinhardt's never seen the inside of a kitchen except on snack raids.





	Secret Ingredient

**Author's Note:**

> This one's for my little brother (the older one), who got me into Overwatch and made the mistake of mentioning that he ships Reinhardt and Ana. This is what you get, bro. Over a thousand words of cookie-baking badass-grandparents fluff.

Her years were written in laugh lines that creased her good eye and belied by the gentle grace of her body as she moved around the kitchen. A shame he didn’t look half so good, Reinhardt thought, though he and Ana were close enough in age. Silence possessed him as he watched her glide between cabinets, counters and sinks, gathering the ingredients for the cookie array she’d decided to bake.

Ana glanced at him over her shoulder. “Well? I thought you were going to be my sous chef?”

He pushed himself off of the door frame he was leaning against and moved to stand beside her with a cheeky grin. “I thought we were going to be baking.”

“Insubordination, recruit. You just do as you’re told.”

“Ah, of course. What are your orders, Captain Amari?”

She giggled, and his heart skipped a beat. “Grab that bowl and measure three and a half cups of flour into it.”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

She poured a few drops of vanilla into a measuring spoon and poured it into a smaller bowl. Glancing over, she chuckled at Reinhardt’s heaping measuring cup. “No, no, don’t pour it in like that. You have to level it off, see.” And grabbing a long, flat spatula, she showed him how to measure the flour precisely. “Now you try it.”

He dipped the cup in the flour canister and, using the level, flicked the excess flour into the kitchen wall.

“Ah, _scheiße_.”

Ana tutted him with a smile. “You great clumsy oaf,” she teased. 

“I cannot help myself, I’m afraid. My hands tremble to see such beauty.” He flashed his winningest smile at her.

“Your hands tremble at the prospect of cookies.”

“Well,” he said with a wink, “that is also true.”

She laughed and turned back to the mixing bowl. “Just hand me the chocolate chips.”

He looked around for the chips and lifted the bag into the air, a skeptical look on his face. “There must be a mistake, _Liebling_.”

“Oh?”

“This is nowhere near enough chocolate!” he declared.

She turned to him, shaking her head at the big, gray-haired German warrior, the unkillable victor of a thousand combats, shield of his allies, holding a bag of chocolate chips in the air and declaring it to be an insufficient quantity of sweets.

Ana felt warmth spread from her chest, radiating gently outward. But she maintained her composure, smiling back at him. “You remember we aren’t just making chocolate chip cookies? Snickerdoodles and lemon cookies, too.”

“Ah, but we are making _many_ chocolate cookies, or?” He wasn’t blind to the pink rising in her cheeks, and he took a step across the kitchen.

“Hm. It is true that we are baking for all of Overwatch. Perhaps you ought to grab another bag.”

“That I will. But I have to do one thing first.” He was standing in front of her now, sliding his arms around her waist. 

“Oh? And what is it you deem more urgent than chocolate chips?”

“Something sweeter,” he said, and leaned down to kiss her lips.

Whisk still in hand, she wrapped her arms around his neck and let time slow to a standstill, let their age melt away into vanilla-scented air. Warm sunlight filtered through a window and cast rays of gold across their faces.

Finally she pushed him away, the color in her cheeks settled to a warm glow. “Alright now, go grab that chocolate. And while you’re at it, another mixing bowl and a lemon.”

“You’re a hard taskmaster, Captain Amari,” he chuckled, “but being in your service is very rewarding.”

“Off to work with you, flatterer,” she ordered, flicking her whisk at him. He dodged the batter droplets with a laugh and set off on his cookie component quest.

He was such a kid sometimes, she thought. And oh, but if he didn’t make her feel like a girl again.

 

The door connecting the kitchen and mess hall was kicked open with little grace and a great deal of noise. Reinhardt swung his massive frame through the portal, bearing in his enormous arms several trays of assorted cookies.

“Come and get ‘em, my friends!” he bellowed heartily. Ana followed him, shaking her head and smiling, another tray in her hands.

“Come and get what?” Angela said, poking her head in the room. “Oh! Cookies! Come on!” She reached behind her and grabbed someone’s hand, pulling Fareeha into the mess hall.

“Angela, what- oh! You’ve made cookies, mother.”

“Indeed,” said Ana, setting her tray next to Reinhardt’s on a long table.

There was the distinctive sound of four limbs racing down the hallway. Winston skidded to a stop in the door, pushing his glasses up his nose and clearing his throat sheepishly. 

“Ahem. Did someone say cookies? Should I make an announcement?”

A young man’s voice rang out down the hall. “Hold the phone, cookies? Hana, did you hear that?”

“Way ahead of you!”

“Wha- no you’re not!”

Hana and Lúcio raced into the mess hall, leaping onto the bench in front of the table.

“Ha! I win, loser!” Hana cried.

“No way! I got here first!” The two were shoulder to shoulder, jostling each other as they reached for the warm confections.  
Reinhardt snickered and put his arm around Ana’s shoulders. “Those kids. I give them... two more weeks before they make it official.”

Leaning into his chest, she made a sound of agreement as the rest of Overwatch began filing, with various degrees of excitement, into the mess hall. 

Popping a lemon cookie into his mouth, Winston licked his lips and gave a sigh of satisfaction. “These are excellent, you two. Though I’m not sure this was the most efficient use of Overwatch resources…”

“Oh, lighten up, Winston,” said McCree, giving him a pat on the shoulder as he walked past and reached for a cookie. “Ain’t nothing to worry about. Think of it as an investment in morale.” Trailing behind him, Genji gave a quiet laugh.

“Winston is right about one thing,” Angela said. “These are really amazing. How do you do it?”

“Well,” Ana replied, looking up at Reinhardt with a smile. He returned the look with a grin of his own, and she felt herself getting lost in his eyes all over again.

“They were made with love.”

**Author's Note:**

> A word on German colloquialisms: Where English-speaking people might say "right?" or something of the sort at the end of a yes/no question ("We're making cookies, right?"), Germans generally say "oder-" in English, "or." It's the kind of habit that carries across languages in multi-lingual people. ("We're making cookies, or?")  
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed the Unofficial Grandparents of Overwatch unabashedly spoiling their kids. Thanks for reading!


End file.
